


Karama

by TheTravelerWrites



Series: Monster Lovers: OkCryptid [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Exophilia, Gay Monster, Gay Sex, Interspecies Romance, M/M, Monster Boyfriend, Monster Lover, OkCryptid, OkCryptid App, Online Dating, Reader Insert, Sex, Size Difference, Terato, Teratophilia, Tiefling, dating app, gay reader, mlm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2019-10-17 09:40:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17557949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTravelerWrites/pseuds/TheTravelerWrites
Summary: A man who enjoys reading romance novels meets another person who likes the same books, who encourages the reader to write stories of his own. After a few days, they decide to meet, and the reader is in for a surprise.





	1. Chapter 1

You had a dirty little secret that you didn’t tell anyone. Women got enough crap for doing it, but you couldn’t imagine the amount of ribbing you’d get if your friends found it out.

You read romance novels.

Being a gay man, you preferred men who love men romances, but really, you’d read any orientation if the story was compelling. Though, saying that, you did tend to be a bit picky.

You stayed away from the books that portrayed LGBT characters as sex-maniacs or nymphos or flat out fetishized them. It’s like the writers of these books had never actually met a gay person or just thought that all non-straight people wanted to do was have casual sex, as though they weren’t actually interested in meaningful relationships. What they did to bisexuals in these books was just criminal. You even looked up a few of the authors and, surprise surprise, a lot of them were straight women.

There was one author you really loved, Elliot Ritter, one of the few men who wrote romance and did it really well. His characterizations were believable and not all rippling muscles and perfect hair, the sex wasn’t over the top, and the romances felt natural and compelling. You often found yourself fantasizing about his characters. You even considered writing him to tell him how much you loved his work, but you didn’t want to come across as a crazed fanboy.

Reading his work, though, had made you feel lonely. Dating in your area organically hadn’t really panned out for you, but you did have an OkCryptid account. You’d only met two people on there, both human, and they had both ended up being hook-ups. It was fun, but you were always hoping for something more… well, romantic. Guys wanted to be wined and dined as much as anyone else did.

One night at work, you got a ping on your phone. Your profile had been dormant for a long time, so it was a pleasant surprise.

_> You’re a fan of Elliot Ritter?_

Your heart leapt. _> Yes, very much. He’s a genius. Are you? _

_> He’s all right. Anita Seaver is better._

_> Are you nuts? _You argued. _> Anita Seaver is a hack, her sex scenes are repetitive. If you’ve read one of her books, you’ve practically read all of them._

_> What about Jay Stone?_

_> Two dimensional characters, no depth. They all have the same personality._

_> You certainly have a strong opinion about this, _they said.

Your boss yelled at you in the distance to get off your phone and back to work, and you grimaced.

_> Listen, I’d love to talk more about this, but I’m at work right now. Can I message you later?_

_> Sure. I look forward to it._

After your shift was over, you eagerly checked the profile of the person who had sent you the message. His name was Lamieta, and he was a black-skinned, bisexual tiefling with glowing green eyes and two sets of gold horns, the larger pair sitting atop the smaller pair just above his hairline. He wasn’t really your type; he was into various sports and expensive cars and he was smoking in his profile picture, which was a turn-off, but you were totally willing to give him a chance, even if it was just to talk about books.

> _I’m out of work now._ You texted him. > _It’s really nice to talk to someone else who likes these kinds of books. I feel like I’m one of four people in the world who reads gay romance in a non-fetish way._

> _Yeah, I totally get that. It doesn’t help that the sample size is so small. Good writers who do right by their characters are few and far between._

> _Oh god, exactly. It almost makes me want to write a few stories myself._

> _You should!_ He said. _I’d love to read anything you write, if you’d like a proofreader._

> _I’d be grateful for that, actually. I’m not a very good writer, though._

> _I can give you pointers. I’m an editor._

> _Really? Wow, that would be amazing. Thank you so much. But where would I even start?_

> _Try this. Write a few short stories, no more than 1000 words or so, and send them to me. I’ll give you my email._

> _Great! Thank you._

He sent you his email, and immediately, you opened your laptop and pulled up a writing program. You’d always been afraid of putting words to paper, so to speak, but once you started, you couldn’t stop. By morning, you’d have five cups of coffee, no sleep, but had six different shorts to send Lamieta.

You didn’t expect him to be awake at this early hour, but you send him the email anyway. Standing and stretching, you went to fix yourself some breakfast. No sense in going to bed since you had work in two hours, but you could shower and eat, at least.

After breakfast, you washed your dishes and hopped in the shower to get ready for the day. Once you were clean, you walked out of the bathroom in your boxers, running a towel through your hair, when you saw from the bedroom doorway that your phone, still at your dining table, was blinking with an email notification.

Thrilled, you went to check your email and saw a reply from Lamieta. You opened it eagerly.

 

_I won’t lie; they’re a bit rough, but they show a lot of potential. The interactions between the characters seem very genuine and tender and I think that’s where you’re skill is strongest. You should work on your atmosphere and set up, though I admit that can be difficult when limited to 1000 words._

_I do have to ask, though: all of the romances in your stories are between humans. Are you not interested in monsters or cryptids, or is it just easier to write about your own species?_

_Otherwise, I quite enjoyed the stories. With some revision and editing, I see no reason why you couldn’t publish one day._

_I hope you have a lovely day. Text me when you are able._

 

It was good criticism. Considering you had written all of the stories in the middle of the night with no sleep hopped up on caffeine, it was completely valid. You already were thinking of ways to improve your work.

Frustrated that you now had to work when you were so jazzed about writing, you pulled out your phone to shoot Lamieta a message.

> _It’s not that I’m not interested in non-humans, it’s just that most of the books out there are pretty much human only._

> _What about Ritter? He writes cryptid romance._

> _Yeah, but he’s the example. I could never hope to be like him._

> _Don’t be like him. Be yourself._

You considered that. > _You’re right. I shouldn’t try to copy other writers. But…_ You hesitated to admit this. > _I’ve never actually been with a non-human before. I’m afraid I don’t have any experience in the matter and I don’t want to misrepresent anyone or embarrass myself._

It took him a few moments to reply. > _What if I gave you a writing challenge?_

> _What sort of challenge?_

> _I’ll pick a random monster for you to write about. Just give it a try. It doesn’t have to be perfect, just write it. I’ll let you know what to sounds good any what doesn’t._

> _I can give it a shot._ You said. > _What type of monster did you have in mind?_

> _Hmm… what about a dragon?_

Your head rocked back. > _A dragon? I’ve never even met a dragon._ You told him. > _I don’t know anyone who has._

> _I did say it was a challenge. Dragons tend to keep to themselves, mainly because their size prevents them from going most places that are closed in, even the smaller ones, so they don’t often leave their home. That doesn’t mean they don’t get lonely. Build on that._

You sighed. > _Well, I said I’d try, and I will._

> _Good. Please send it to me when you’ve finished._

> _I have to go to work now. I can start on it when I get home._

> _Sounds good. Text me later._

> _I will._

After work that night, you sat down at your computer and like a torrent, the story poured out of you. Within just a few hours, you’d written over 10,000 words broken up into chapters. But when you got to the sex scene, you paused. You didn’t know what that would even look like, let alone where to begin.

So, you saved your progress and sent what you had done to Lamieta. Hoping to hear from him in the morning, you went to bed.

When you woke up, you’d received an email.

 

_It reads very well! I love the color you chose for the dragon; green is a great color. But it seems abrupt and incomplete. Perhaps you need some advice on the love scene? Maybe you and I could meet and discuss it over dinner at my home?_

_Hopefully you won’t find this too forward, but I have enjoyed talking to you these last few days very much and I would like to know you better._

_Please text me soon with your answer._

Your heart skipped a beat. A date so soon? And at his house? That was moving a little fast. You looked at his profile again. He was attractive, and despite the fact that the two of you seemed so different in personality, talking to him had been the highlight of the last two days. What could it hurt?

> _I’d love to have dinner with you. I have a day off on Thursday. Would that work for you?_

Your heart was in your throat as you waited for his reply, but it didn’t come. You put off getting ready for work until the last possible minute, waiting for him to text you back, but he didn’t. Anxious, you went to work and tried to put it out of your mind.

It wasn’t until a few hours later, while you were helping a rather persnickety customer when you got the ping, and you frustratingly had to wait until you were finished with them before you could check your phone.

Once you were done, you pulled out your phone and checked your messages.

> _Thursday would be wonderful! Here’s my address._

You breathed a sigh of relief and told him how much you were looking forward to meeting him.

Thursday rolled around and you were a nervous wreck. You weren’t sure if you should just wear a v-neck and jeans or slacks and a dress shirt. You compromised and wore a dark blue button-up and black jeans. It was only when you debated about wearing a tie that you realized you were going to run late if you didn’t go now. So you just shoved a tie in your pocket without looking and told yourself you’d decide on the way.

You drove for about forty five minutes and realized you were in a rather opulent neighborhood. The houses, which were extravagant, were spread out pretty far from each other. When you reached the address you’d gotten from Lamieta, it was recessed behind a huge brick wall at least twelve feet tall. There was a gate with a buzzer and an inner-com system. You pressed the buzzer.

“Yes?” A voice said over the speaker.

“Uh…” You said. “I’m here to meet Lamieta?” You told the person your name. “He invited me for dinner.”

“Ah, yes, of course. I’ll buzz you in,” The voice said. A moment later, the large gate swung open and you drove your admittedly out-of-place 2004 Jeep Cherokee and wended your way up the drive, stopping at an absolutely enormous house. It was easily four stories tall. It was a practically a mansion.

“What have I gotten myself into?” You asked yourself in an undertone.

You got out of your car and walked up a sidewalk that was literally cobblestone and looked ridiculously expensive. Like, two year’s salary expensive. The front door, large enough to fly a plane through, had a smaller door in one side with a door knocker. Hesitating slightly, you reached up and knocked.

Lamieta opened the door and smiled. “Hi,” He said.

“Hey,” You said, smiling nervously. He was every bit as handsome in person.

“Come in,” He said, stepping back. You obliged him and stepped into the house.

Immediately you were struck by the fact that the house, which you originally thought was several floors high, didn’t actually have floors; the entire house was open from ground to ceiling. There were rooms, each of them huge, but they weren’t separated by walls, but rather supports strategically placed to indicate where one room ended and another began. However, up high, stuck in the walls in various places, were large planks that almost looked like perches.

“Your house is beautiful,” You said.

“Thanks,” Lamieta said, smiling good-naturedly. “But it isn’t mine. It belongs to my employer.”

“Oh,” You said, surprised. “Well, it’s still nice.”

He chuckled softly. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. My employer, that is. The last couple of days, the person you’ve been talking to… that wasn’t me.”

Your brow furrowed. “What?”

He sighed, looking a little uncomfortable. “Look, my employer is also my best friend; I’ve known him for ages. He’s always had a lot of trouble dating and was sort of giving up hope of ever meeting someone. I encouraged him to try online dating, but he swore no one would want to go with him because of… well… what he is.”

“What is he?” You asked in curiosity.

“We’ll get to that in a minute,” Lamieta said. “He wouldn’t make his own profile, so I let him borrow mine. He’s the one you’ve been talking to, not me. The poor guy is just really shy.” He shrugged. “He asked me to meet you first and explain the situation, to prepare you. He says he understands if you don’t want to go through with the date, but honestly, I think you should. He really likes you. I haven’t seen him this excited in a long time.”

“Well…” You said slowly. “I can’t say that I’m not shocked, because I am. Dishonesty is definitely a trait that turns me off.”

Lamieta cocked his head in a placating sort of way. “He wasn’t trying to deceive you, really. I was the one who pushed him to do it. Honestly, he didn’t even expect you to reply, let alone continue a conversation with him. He was happy. But he also doesn’t want to string you along and keep pretending he’s someone he’s not, which is why he asked you here. He wants you to know who he is and let you decide if you want to continue. He’s had his heart broken pretty bad a few times, just because of what he is.”

“What _is_ he?” You asked again.

Lamieta sighed and pulled out his phone, pressing a button and holding it to his ear.

“Hey,” He said into the receiver. “Yeah, he’s here. Want me to bring him round? Okay. Just a sec.” He hung up his phone and put it back in his pocket. “He’s in his study. I’ll lead you there.”

Lamieta walked you through the palatial home, and while you were following him, your eyes were drawn to a mosaic on the wall nearest the sitting area, which had no chairs or couches, just an extra plush carpet and gigantic pillows. The mosaic was of a flying creature made with… Jeez, were those _real gemstones_? You gulped and kept following Lamieta.

He brought you to the first real room, though it still didn’t have walls. Instead, it was surrounded on all sides by a thick, heavy curtain.

“Karama,” Lamieta called. “He’s here. Do you want him to come in, or do you want to come out?”

A voice as cavernous as the house replied: “Let him in.”

Lamieta walked forward and parted the curtain slightly so that you could go in.

“Don’t be scared,” The tiefling said. “Despite his looks, he’s a giant teddy bear.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” You said, stepping inside.

Inside was brightly lit on one side and completely dark on the other. You could easily fit your apartment into this room three times over. The brightly lit side was full of books and had a large flat screen on the wall. There was a desk almost as tall as you, and you were surprised to find that almost the entire surface was made up of a giant keyboard. There was a custom, state-of-the-art, hand built computer on a shelf next to the TV and a headset at least five times the size of the one you had at home.

Was this guy an _actual_ giant?

The darkened side of the room also had books, but in the center of the floor was a recess piled with pillows and blankets. After a moment, you realized it was a bed. This wasn’t just a study, it was a bedroom.

Your heart thudded in your chest. Just as you started to back up, the deep voice spoke up again.

“Please… don’t leave yet…”

You stopped. “This is a little weird. Your name is Karama?”

“Yes,” The voice said, and you realized it was coming from behind the curtain on the far side of the room.

“Well, Karama, I don’t like being lied to,” You told him a little severely.

“I didn’t lie,” He said. “Well, not exactly. I didn’t mean to. Honestly, when I asked you to dinner, I didn’t think you’d actually agree. I was just coming to like you so much, and I was scared that you’d suggest it eventually, so I did it first. I guess I was kind of hoping to scare you off before you got too attached, so you wouldn’t have to actually meet me.”

“Why didn’t you want to meet me?”

“I did, but I knew once you saw me, you’d run screaming for the hills, like everyone else.”

“Look,” You said, pinching your nose. “Why don’t you just come out and let me decide for myself?”

A sigh like a hurricane sounded from the darkness, and Karama said, “Alright. But I warned you.”

The curtain separated far wider than it had for you to enter, and your jaw dropped.

He came in on four legs, with four long claws on each, his emerald green scales glowing slightly in the dark. His legs led up to a lizard-like body, with spines growing out of his back and down his long tail. His head was long with a pointed snout and teeth sharp as knives poking past the lips, with huge eyes like jewels set deep in his face. Large wings folded against his back, twitching as he moved as if to help him keep his balance. He was about as tall as an elephant, and twice the length of one.

Karama wasn’t a giant. He was a _dragon_.

“I guess I know why you chose a dragon for the story now,” You said, stunned.

“Well,” he said glumly. “Here I am. If you want to leave, I wouldn’t blame you. I’ll call Lamieta.”

“Wait, why would I want to leave?” You said. “I have so many questions.”

“Questions?” He said, coming slightly closer as if testing whether you were actually going to run or not. “What questions?”

“How did you afford a house like this? Why are you so scared of meeting people? Why did you think I wouldn’t want to meet you?”

“Well, I’m a writer,” He said. “A pretty successful one, actually. And, well, I hate perpetuating a stereotype, but dragons do have a tendency to hoard valuables. That’s always been true, so this house is ostensibly my hoard.” He sighed. “It’s not that I’m afraid of meeting people, but people seem to be terrified of me. When I first tried to publish my manuscript, no publisher that knew I was a dragon would take it. I had to invent a pen name to get a foot in the door. Or, well, a claw, I guess.” He finished awkwardly.

You chuckled, and he seemed to brighten.

“I just figured you’d be scared of me, just like everyone else I’ve met,” He said. “That’s actually why it took me hours to respond when you agreed to meet me. Actually, it wasn’t me who did it; I was too nervous. Lamieta sent you my address. That was the first time you were ever actually talking to him and not me.”

“Why don’t you date dragons?” You asked him.

He lay down on his belly and folded his legs in. “Most other dragons have shunned living in modern society. They don’t see the point of it when they’re too large to even go into most cities or towns. A very small few have taken jobs as security, protecting high priority people from different countries in secret, and they get paid a fortune to do it, but I wasn’t interested in that. I like telling stories. That’s what I wanted to do.”

“I guess it is hard leaving everything you knew behind to live in a place that isn’t built for you,” You said thoughtfully. Carefully, you stepped toward him and raised a hand. He seemed nervous, but he bend his head and let you place your hand on his snout, closing his eyes. “If you’d still like to have that date, I’m still up for it,” You told him.

He jumped up and bounced around like a dog going to the park. “Really? You mean that?”

You backed up a bit, but laughed. “Yes, I do. But remember, I’m smaller than you. Try not to squish me.”

His belly hit the ground again and he laid his head on the floor. Lamieta was wrong; Karama wasn’t a teddy bear, he was a big puppy.

“Sorry,” He said. “So, are you hungry? I wasn’t actually expecting you to stay, so I didn’t make anything, but I make a really good steak. Interested?”

“I’ve been eating instant ramen for a week. That sounds amazing.”

He led you to the absolutely enormous kitchen, and you saw that while there were appliances specifically designed for him, there was also a station built for smaller people. He said he had that put in for if he had guests, and your heart broke for him. The appliances looked brand new and untouched.

He offered you a bottle of wine and tapped an entire barrel for himself, drinking from it like it was a beer can. Despite how large his claws were, he was incredibly delicate and deft, able to cook a steak and make a salad that was proportion-perfect for you while making a steak big enough for him at the same time. You were impressed.

Once he finally came out of his shell a little, conversation flowed easily. There was a table with chairs for people of your height, and you sat at it. He simply laid his plate on the floor next to your chair and ate beside you. When lying down, he was eye level with you, so it wasn’t awkward.

By the time dinner was finished and half the bottle of wine was gone, you were feeling full, friendly, and happy. And maybe willing to be a little adventurous.

“So…” You said slowly. “I remember you asked me over to discuss a love scene. Any chance we could do that?”

If dragons could blush, you believed he would have. “I… If you’d like, yes, we could certainly do that.”

You took the bottle of wine and sat on the floor with him. “Well, for starters, I don’t even know what a dragon’s… private bits… look like. I googled it, but that wasn’t much help. Dragon porn is just as hard to come by as actual dragons.”

“Oh,” Karama said, visibly flustered. “I… um… it’s…”

“I mean, I know it’s got to be big,” You said, the wine making you a little talkative. “Just judging by your size, yours must be _enormous_.”

Karama gulped. “I’m not that…

“Like, I know some lizards have two, and I can’t even imagine what that would be like,” You continued blithely.

“I don’t have two,” He interjected shyly. “I don’t know if I could describe it…”

“Hmm…” You pulled up your phone and typed in “reptile penis” into the search engine. “I’ll scroll through and you point to the one that’s the most similar.”

He leaned in over your shoulder and his breath warmed your entire body as he exhaled.

“That one,” He said, pointing to a crocodile. “It’s not exactly the same, but it’s very similar to that.”

“Huh,” You said. “A crocodile that size, you’d expect it to be much bigger than that.”

“Well, according to this, a female crocodile has a small opening, so that would make sense,” He pointed out.

“It also says it’s permanently erect,” You said. “It’s just retractable and hidden in it’s body. Is that true for you?”

Karama began to quiver a little with anxiety. “Yes…”

You put your phone back in your pocket and looked up at him. He stared back at you, and there were a few tense moments of electric silence between you.

You broke it first. “Can I see it?”

Karama gulped visibly before responding, “Okay.”

You both stood up, and he led you back to his bedroom. You lay a hand on his side as you walked together, and his scales gave a shiver underneath your fingers, creating a sort of hissing rattle sound, like a rattlesnake.

He pushed past the curtain, holding it open for you, and went to his bed. Then he reared up on his hind legs and that’s when you saw it. It was already protruding from a slit in his lower abdomen between his hips. It was sort of a mother-of-pearl white, with a sharp tip surrounded by a bulbous head that didn’t wrap all the way around the shaft. The head was a faint green while the ridge on the underside that ran from tip to base was a vaguely purple color.

Strangely, even though it was far larger than any member you’d seen in your life, it still didn’t seem proportional to his size, like the crocodile. Even still, it was about the width and length of your forearm and plenty big enough for you.

It was slick with Karama’s own shiny lubricant. Karama sat back on his haunches and rested his hands on his knees, looking down at you apprehensively.

You walked forward and reached out your hand, stopping short of touching him by millimeters.

“Okay?” You asked him. He nodded.

You lay your fingers on the flesh of his cock, drawing them downward slowly. He wheezed, growling, and you snatched your hand back.

“Sorry, sorry!” He said quickly. “That’s not a bad sound, I promise. I want to keep going, if you do.”

In response, you leaned forward and licked the sharp tip. Karama gasped and fell forward, nearly knocking you on your back into the pillows.

“Please,” He said. “I know this is our first date and you’re mad at me for lying, but please… I need this… please…”

You removed your clothes quickly while he watched you with a hungry expression. You were already hard, and your member bobbing in place caught his attention. His head dipped down and his thin tongue came out, saliva dripping from it, as he wrapped it around your cock, contracting and releasing. You gasped in return, almost buckling. You had to grasp the horns on his head to keep yourself upright.

He reared up and looked down at you, thin wisps of smoke rising from his nostrils. He towered over you, panting, and you found his intimidating size incredibly erotic. You turned around and leaned over the ledge of the recessed area, kneeling with your rear presented and your legs open.

Karama wasted no time and licked you from the tip of your length to the pucker at the very back, leaving a trail of his saliva behind. The tongue probed that tight opening, pushing into you. The feeling was incredible and you squeezed around it.

His tongue retreated and you felt his strange phallus, still slick, pressing against the entrance. “Can I?” He asked, his body over yours, cloaking you in it, and his breath in your ear.

“Please,” You said, pressing back against him a little in encouragement.

It was lucky his organ had a sharp tip, because if it was blunted, like human genitals, it may not have fit at all. But the narrow tip flaring inward help him push himself slowly inside you. Painfully slowly. You reached between your legs and stroked yourself as he filled you up. The strangely shaped head of his cock slid across the bundle of nerves inside you, and you groaned loudly.

“Okay?” He asked anxiously.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” You told him. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you if something’s wrong.” You wiggled your hips a little to make him move, feeling a little desperate.  

He growled again as he thrust, and you realized it wasn’t a growl but a purr, a sound of pleasure. He couldn’t go all the way inside without hurting you, so he pulled back when he got as far as he could go and thrust back in a little more quickly.

“This… this is my first time,” He whispered to you, gasping for breath.

“That’s okay,” You told him, reaching back to touch his long face and press a kiss to his snout. “I’ve done this before. Keep going. You’re doing fine.”

“I may not be able to last too long,” He wheezed rather bashfully. “It feels so good, I can’t help it.”

“You’ll have plenty of opportunity to make it up to me, if that’s the case,” You said, laughing. “I may never leave this place after today.”

“You’d let me keep you?” He asked, thrusting a little harder and faster, but not enough to hurt. He lay down further, so that his scaled belly pressed into your back as he moved inside you, and you loved the coolness of it against your overheated skin. The both of you began to moan and gasp from the sensations.

“I’m yours, if you want me,” You whispered to him earnestly, leaning your cheek against his nose.

“I want you,” He said in a barely audible voice, and he came abruptly. The amount of his seed, at least, was definitely proportional to his body, and it shot out of your body as fast as it left his. Before he was done, you stroked yourself into a frenzy and came too.

By the time the two of you were finished and spent, there was a large mess in the middle of his plush pillows and silky blankets.

“I’ll get you clean,” He said, a smile in his voice. “Stand up for me.”

“If I can,” You said, and he laughed. You stood up, a little wobbly, and his tongue came out to clean the mess from your body, front and back, which you found rather enjoyable.

“Wait a moment and I’ll change the bedding,” He told you.

“Mind if I look around for a sec? You kind of stole the show when you walked in,” You told him, grinning.

He grinned back. “Please, go ahead.”

Still nude, you walked around the darkened half of the room, studying the books and trinkets he had on the shelves. One shelf, however, seemed to be awards and accolades from his writing.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you were successful,” You said, pointing. You picked one up and looked at it. “Award for best new writer in LGBT romance, 2007, Ell--” You stopped dead and your jaw dropped. “ _Elliot Ritter?_ ”

Karama actually laughed, a full belly laugh. “I told you I created a pen name.”

“You… You’re Elliot Ritter?” You asked in stunned disbelief. “ _The_ Elliot Ritter? _My_ Elliot Ritter?”

“I’m certainly yours now, aren’t I?” He said, coming close and nuzzling you. “Does this change anything?” He asked anxiously.

You huffed. “Have you ever heard the expression ‘never meet your heroes because they’ll never be what you expect?’”

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Well, that’s true. You’re so much more than I expected.” You pressed kisses into his snout. “I’m glad you took a chance on me.” And you laughed. “And I know how to write that love scene now.”

He actually picked you up and set you back in the bed, freshly made and warm.

“Well..." He said slowly, grinning. "We could try some different scenes, before you decide on one.”

“Research is important,” You agreed, and he lay his cold body over yours, licking down your neck and chest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karama meets the readers parents!

Karama had asked you to move in with him very shortly after the two of you started dating. You mentioned to him that you were thinking about quitting your job so that you could focus on writing, and Karama immediately insisted you do just that, enthusiastic about spending even more time with you. His excitement to have you nearby all the time made your heart hurt a little. He’d been alone for so long.

The only dark spot in your currently very bright life with Karama was your writing. You were having trouble keeping the creativity up to finish an entire novel. You’d always run out of steam halfway through and were growing extremely frustrated.

“Don’t get so worked up, love,” Karama said as you gripped you hair and lay your head on your desk. “Sometimes this happens, even to me. You should see my folder of abandoned works-in-progress. It’s embarrassing.”

His large body, roughly the size of a Dutch draft horse, only longer, was lying on the floor on pillow-couch in the living room behind you. He was watching his favorite show, The Great British Baking Show, on Netflix with the sound turned way down and the subtitles on. He was on his back with his legs in the air like an oversized dog.

“But it’s different for you,” You said desperately. “It’s okay if you abandon a project because you have so many good ideas. You’ve put out twenty novels in the last ten years. You’re amazing.”

“Aww,” He said, flopping over and getting to his feet. He came over and nuzzled your neck with his snout. “You think I’m amazing?” He rested his head on yours very gently. You swatted at him and he laughed playfully, bounding out of your reach.

“You know I do,” You said peevishly. You scratched the back of your neck and sighed. “Maybe I quit too soon. Maybe I’m not cut out to be a writer.”

He spun your chair slowly and pulled you into an embrace.

“Don’t say that,” He said. “You’ve only been writing for a month. It was two years before I finished a manuscript I was comfortable publishing. Slow down, give yourself time. Don’t stress. Being aggravated with yourself isn’t going to help, trust me.” He stood up on his back paws and took your hand. “Come on. Relax with me.”

You sighed and allowed yourself to be led away.

That night, you lay in the nest with him curled around you. Your head rested on his long, cool neck, his nostrils breathing warm air onto your legs. You were comfortable, but unable to sleep. All the unfinished work on your laptop kept revolving in your mind, and you sighed.

“I can practically hear the cogs in your brain moving,” Karama muttered with his eyes closed.

You sighed again. “Sorry. I’m just so…” You couldn’t think of the word you wanted and grunted. “See? This is the problem! When it’s important, my mind goes blank. Important plot point? Nothing. Sudden, unexpected twist? Nothing. Dialogue that ties the characters together? Nothing.”

Karama sighed, too. “Look, give your brain a break. Tomorrow, why don’t you try doing the short stories, like you did before we met? Those were really good, and you could crank those out in record time. If the problem is that you lose inspiration halfway through the novel, then eliminate that issue. Think smaller. Five to ten thousand words, max. Maybe that will help.

“Huh,” You said thoughtfully. “That’s something to think about.”

“Right? I’ve found that people, online specifically, are more willing to read smaller stories than huge tomes,” Karama said. “People’s attention spans are shorter these days. They want something to read while they’re on the bus or train or while they’re on their lunch break at work. Smaller stories would fit that demand.”

It was a good idea. “I’ll sleep on it,” You said, shrugging noncommittally.

“Good,” Karama said, settling in. “As long as you _go to sleep_.”

You snickered and rolled over, giving Karama a kiss behind the ear. He snuffled happily and leaned into you, careful not to gore you with his horns or spikes.

The next day, Lamieta came by to discuss the finer details of the latest book Karama had in production, and the two of them went out to the back garden so that you to write in peace and quiet.

You started by converting the three longer stories you were working on to shorter versions. Karama was right, this was so much easier. Working within the confines of a word limit was actually freeing. It meant you didn’t have to work so hard padding out the plot and could just cut to the important bits, which is what you wanted to do in the first place.

Lamieta and Karama returned later as you were starting on your fourth short story.

“Looks like your having more luck,” Lamieta said, looking over your shoulder.

“Yes, hi, can’t talk, must write,” You said as you typed feverishly.

“That’s the spirit,” Lamieta said with a laugh, patting your head.

“Lamieta and his boyfriend are coming over next weekend for a dinner party,” Karama said. “It’ll be the first one I’ve ever had!”

You did stop writing for that. “That’s great! I’ll help with it.”

“Really?” Karama said, leaning down on his front paws like a puppy. “You won’t be too busy with your writing?”

“I’m never too busy for you, babe,” You told him, kissing his forehead. He made the most adorable and least dignified sound you’d ever heard and bound into the kitchen, muttering happily about what kind of salad to make.

“He’s really happy,” Lamieta muttered to you. “Happier than I’ve ever seen him, and I’ve known him a long time.” He patted your back and smiled. “You’re good for him.”

“Thanks,” You replied. “I think it’s a mutual thing.”

Lamieta nodded knowingly. “I’ll see you later, dude.”

“See you.” You watched Lamieta leave, and then, after saving your work twice just to make sure it was _extra_ -saved, went into the kitchen to find Karama looking through cabinets, muttering about what he’d need to order for the dinner party.

“You’re really excited about this, huh?” You said, amused.

He nodded fervently. “I’ve always wanted to entertain guests and have dinner with friends, but I’ve never had the chance. I mean, Lamieta comes over sometimes, but we usually just discuss business or what’s going on in his life. I’m looking forward to meeting his new boyfriend. He seems to think this guy is a good one.” Karama grinned, then grimaced. “He’s had a bad dating history. I mean, I’ve never met any of them, but he’s told me about them. He’s got a bad habit of thinking with what’s in his pants and not using his head. The fact that he wants to introduce me to this new guy means Lamieta must have a really good feeling about him.”

“That’s awesome.” You turned on the smaller stove he’d installed for human use to make tea. “So… I was actually thinking about something…”

“Oh? Is it about your writing? You seemed to be crushing it when we came back in.”

“No, not my writing,” You said, folding your arms and leaning your hip against the counter. “How would you feel about having extra guests at the dinner party?”

Karama stopped in his tracks and stared at you. “Really? Who?”

“My moms,” You replied. “I’ve already told them about you. They don’t believe you’re actually a dragon, of course, but now that we’re living together, I think it’s time you met them.”

“You really want your moms to meet me?” Karama said, getting back down on all fours and coming close. He had a tear in his eye.

“Of course,” You replied. “I love you. I know they will, too. Well, Bhabhu is a bit of a hard nut to crack, but Mom will adore you.”

“Wait, what should I call them?” He asked.

“Mom is Milena and Bhabhu is Praiyasha,” You said. “Bhabhu is a naga, so any aggression she might exhibit is more of a territorial thing for her than actual hostility.” You put your arms around his neck and hugged him. “Is it okay if they come?”

“Of course!” Karama said. “I’d be so happy to meet them! I just hope they like me.”

“They will,” You assured him. “I certainly do.”

When the next weekend came, you’d completed ten short stories that you were pretty proud of, and let Karama read them. He did a little editing, but he liked them, too. Despite being in a relationship with him, it still blew your mind that your favorite writer enjoyed your work.

The night of the dinner party arrived, and Karama was visibly nervous. He kept dropping utensils and fumbling his words.

“Babe, calm down, it’s going to be fine,” You said as you pulled a very large knife out of his claws before he cut himself or damaged any more furniture.

“I’m just so anxious,” He said. “I’ve never had more than three people in the house before.”

“I know, but I’ll be here to help you. I’ve worked in retail, I can handle anything.” You kissed his snout and ran your fingernails through the scaled on the underside of his chin, which always helped calm him. He closed his eyes and made a rumbling purr sound.

A knock at the door startled him, and the panic in his eyes came back.

“I’ll get it, I’ll get it, don’t worry,” You said, kissing him again and going to greet the guests.

First to arrive was your mothers. Your mom Milena had immigrated from Serbia when she was ten, and had met your other mother in college. Your bhabhu Praiyasha was an Indian Brown Kriat naga and had come to America from Rajasthan only a year prior to meeting Milena. Despite their vastly different cultures and backgrounds, they fell in love immediately. After graduating, they got married and adopted you when you were three years old. You were their little prince ever since. Praiyasha was a banker and Milena worked with adults who had special needs.

“ _Mera beta!_ ” Praiyasha exclaimed, hugging you closely. Your mom must have shined her scales before coming because they were glittering blindingly. She wore a blue silk hip-length kurta that complimented her dark skin perfectly. It was embroidered along the neck and sleeves with the same pattern as her long tail. “It’s been so long since you visited! We were so surprised you asked us to meet this new boyfriend of yours.”

Milena, a pale, chubby red-head wearing a matching blue skirt suit with a half-sleeve, hugged you next and gave you a kiss on the cheek. “You’re looking well, baby!” She said. “And this house is incredible.”

“Well, come meet the owner,” I said, leading them into the kitchen. Karama was perched on his back paws with his front paws clutched in front of him nervously. “Mom, Bhabhu, this is my boyfriend, Karama, A.K.A. Elliot Ritter.”

“So he really is a dragon,” Praiyasha said, slithering close and holding out a hand. Karama took it and shook gently. “Call me Praiyasha.”

“And you can call me Mom. I’m not as uptight as Praiya is,” Milena said, smirking sardonically at her wife.

“It’s lovely to meet you both,” Karama said, only a hint of a waver in his voice. “Your son speaks so highly of you.”

“Likewise,” Milena replied. “Oh, don’t bother with a handshake, honey, I’m a hugger.” And she did just that, standing up on her tiptoes to hug Karama around the neck, which Karama returned.

“Are you the one who encouraged our baby to stop working?” Praiyasha asked Karama with an upturned eyebrow. Her accent was still heavy, even after twenty five years in America. “How is he to pay for school if he does not work?”

“Oh… He… I can…”

“Don’t let Bhabhu scare you, Karama,” You said. “She’s all bark and no bite.”

“Hey, I bite. Ask your mother,” Praiyasha said.

Karama snickered.

“I don’t need to work for a while, Bhabhu,” You said. “I have enough financial aid to get me through this semester.”

“And it certainly helps having a rich boyfriend to support you, I’m sure,” Milena said with a wink.

“He’s not supporting me, Mom,” You protested.

“Except for feeding you and putting a roof over your head,” Praiyasha said.

“He’s not taking advantage of me or anything,” Karama said quickly in your defense. “I was the one who asked him to move in.”

“Oh, honey, we’re just picking on him,” Milena said with a dismissive wave. “You have to take everything we say to him with a grain of salt.”

“Moms, I’ve told you, he’s not used to dealing with your humor,” You said. “Give him a break. He’s already scared of you.”

“Good,” Praiyasha replied, doing her best to look intimidating. Karama gulped. You rolled your eyes.

Talks were going well when Lamieta showed up. He had a shortish, heavyset man with him that had the most beautiful green eyes and a very sweet smile.

“This is my boyfriend, Timothy,” Lamieta said. You shook Timothy’s hand and he introduced himself to your moms. He seemed startled, but not surprised, when he met Karama.

“It’s alright that my moms crashed the party, eh?” You asked Lamieta in an undertone as Timothy complimented the architecture of the house.

“Oh, yeah,” He said with a grin. “I’m glad they’re here, actually. They’re going to want to see this.”

“See what?” You asked, confused.

Lamieta’s grin widened, but he didn’t elaborate.

Dinner was everything Karama had wanted: good food, flowing conversation, jokes and laughter. Karama had pulled out all the stops and made an incredible grilled salmon over vermicelli with garlic roasted spring greens and potatoes. He’d even made a berry crumble that made you want to die. He needed to stop being so perfect. It was annoying sometimes.

“That was amazing, Karama,” Milena said, patting her stomach. “Praiya and I are always so busy, we never have time to cook a meal. This was a treat, thank you.”

“I’m so glad you liked it!” Karama said enthusiastically. He was eating at the table with everyone instead of putting his plate on a stool on the floor so that he could be eye level with you, like usual. “You’re welcome to come over whenever you like for dinner.”

“We might just take you up on that,” Milena replied, taking a sip of her wine. “This was nice. We don’t get a chance to do things like this often, do we, love?”

“No,” Praiyasha agreed. “Our work keeps us moving. We don’t have a lot of time to sit and enjoy things.”

“Well,” Lamieta said, reaching into his messenger bag. “Don’t grab your keys just yet; we’ve got one more thing to do before we call it a night.”

Karama clapped his paws excitedly. “You got it finished?”

“Yep,” Lamieta said, grinning. “I had to push it through, but when you ask me for a favor, I come through for you, don’t I, buddy?”

“You definitely do!” Karama said, taking the book and looking it over carefully.

“What’s that?” Milena asked.

“Likely his new bestseller,” You said proudly, but Karama shook his head.

“Not mine. Yours.”

You sat up straight and frowned. “What?”

“Here,” He said with a huge, toothy grin and handed you the book. You looked at it.

“' _Never Too Soon; an Anthology of Short Stories by…'_ ” You gaped at it. “That’s my name!”

“Sure is!” Karama said. “I was so impressed with your drive and passion for your writing that I showed your finished shorts to Lamieta. He agreed they were ready for publishing and pushed it through to our publishing house.”

“We just need your go-ahead before we start printing,” Lamieta said.

Your mothers gasped and hugged each other, crowing about how proud they were of you as you sat there, gaping with tears in your eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Completely,” Karama said. He twiddled his claws. “Do you like it? Are you happy?”

You got up and practically climbed him to give him the biggest, tightest hug you’d ever given him. “Completely.”

That night, in bed, you were reading your book. _Your book._ You never thought you’d ever get to say that. Just as you were getting lost in the bliss of knowing you’d be a real author as soon as this went to print, you noticed something on the page and groaned loudly.

“What?” Karama asked from the bathroom, alarmed. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

You hit yourself in the head with the book and howled, “ _THERE’S A TYPO!_ ”

Karama laughed. He laughed for a very long time, but before you could tell him off, he vaulted out of the bathroom and tackled you, still wet from his bath.

 _Ah, well_ , you thought. _There are worse things._


End file.
